


Not in Bucharest

by Housefrau



Category: Basic Instinct (Movies), Charlie Countryman (2013)
Genre: Bottom Adam, Drinking, Drunken Flirting, M/M, Porn With Plot, Public Sex, Top Nigel (Charlie Countryman)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 22:51:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13258275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Housefrau/pseuds/Housefrau
Summary: A quick fic based on a Ko-fi prompt! The prompt I was given was:"Smoky Nightclub AU, with a Daddy!Mads character as the owner and a Twink!Hugh character auditioning as a singer."So I went with Nigel and Adam Towers. Because, really.There might be more chapters later? But for now, this is it!---Nigel has set up a new club outside of Bucharest after being forced out by his father-in-law. Adam Towers is auditioning to be a singer in the club, which has a different side to it after hours.





	Not in Bucharest

When Nigel had left Bucharest his original plan had been to buy a round trip ticket, hire somebody to kill Victor, and return before the food in his refrigerator spoiled. However, he was almost certain that his dear wife would both know it was him and never forgive him, so he opted for mercy. Or, more specifically, he’d decided it wasn’t worth the effort. He exchanged his return flight with a flight to whatever godforsaken country didn’t cost him any extra, and had his funds from Darko’s nightclub transferred to him so that he could begin anew here.

Frankly, Darko’s club had been too grimy for him anyway. The smell alone was enough to give him a hangover, and he’d never touched the girls for fear of contracting some incurable disease. But this club? He was proud of what he’d built up here. He enjoyed the black furniture and the deep reds of the walls. He enjoyed that his employees treated it like their own club, and encouraged them. Perhaps his girls walked around with the same lack of clothes on as Darko’s girls, but Nigel’s knew that they were better than their ogling customers, and they behaved as such.

Still, his lounge was new and was lacking in a certain level of entertainment, so Nigel was seated in a comfortable chair facing the stage, watching performer after performer come and go. He found himself pondering how there could be so many styles of music, and so many ways to sing them badly, when the next singer stepped up onto the stage. The house band began to play whatever surely-awful song had been requested, and Nigel was distracted with opening a new pack of cigarettes when the singing began.

Nigel looked up expecting a Buddy Holly wannabe, and locked eyes with the most gorgeous man he’d seen thus far in this country. Based on the younger man’s smirk, Nigel could only assume that he’d been staring him down for some time. He looked away to light his cigarette, then turned back to the stage to examine the singer more carefully. Slim, he noted, and young. With the mess of dark curls and the faint facial hair, Nigel estimated that the singer was at least ten years younger than himself. He watched him with rapt attention. The singer’s hips swayed with the beat, and even in a black turtleneck Nigel got the impression that he was being dared to undress him with his eyes. He wasn’t one to back down from a dare.

When the song came to its end, a member of the house band immediately pointed the curly haired minx to the exit as they’d been instructed to do with everybody else. Nigel cleared his throat and stood, tucking his cigarette between his lips with one hand and gesturing for the singing to join him with the other.

“Good evening. I’m Nigel, the owner of this lounge. I must say, you have the voice of an angel.”

“Adam, and… thank you,” the singer replied, suppressing a smirk as he shook Nigel’s hand.

“A pleasure, Adam. Typically, I would think this over, but I believe that you are a perfect fit here. When can you start?”

They went over the contract over drinks.

\---

As the weeks passed, Nigel found himself pleased with the way his lounge had flourished. He’d hired a different singer for each night of the week, with Adam on stage each Friday. Perhaps it was simply the day of the week, but the lounge was always filled to capacity on Fridays and Nigel gave that credit to the only male singer on his payroll. He was also delighted to find that Adam, who was in charge of his own wardrobe, had begun to dress more fashionably, following suit of the female singers and the waitstaff.

Nigel spent a good amount of his time at the lounge in his office, but always found himself lured out by the enchanting voice like a sailor lured to the rocks by a siren.

This evening found Adam wearing a black suit with a black shirt underneath, and a dark green tie that brought out the green in his otherwise blue eyes. His eyes were on Nigel the moment the older man sat at the bar, and remained there for the majority of his time on stage. The club was dim, with a smoky haze from cigarettes and other things. The main source of light was the spotlight on the stage.

When his final song came to an end, the band played one more song on their own before the house music came over the speakers. The house lights remained turned down. Adam hopped offstage and headed toward the bar. His eyes lingered on a man who had a hand up not-his-wife’s skirt.

“You know, Nigel, this place is starting to become known as the place to come for an easy fuck,” Adam said as he leaned on the bar. He flagged the bartender down for a glass of water.

“Is that so?” Nigel looked around with mock curiosity before he leaned in to whisper, “then my business plan is succeeding.”

Adam’s laugh was melodic, and the way he threw his head back captured Nigel’s full attention once again. His eyes lingered on Adam’s throat for a moment too long.

“Try the scotch.” Nigel beckoned for the bartender to bring a glass for Adam.

“Oh, that’s alright. I need to head home.” Adam turned away from the bar, but just as quickly he found Nigel’s arm wrapping around his waist. Nigel guided him back into his seat and leaned closer, using his free hand to slide the glass in front of him.

“Try the scotch, Adam. I insist.” There was a sudden, new ferocity about Nigel. Adam had seen glimpses of it before, when a customer caused one of his girls to drop a tray of drinks, or when a microphone went out and the sound guy was too coked up to fix it. Adam had brushed it off, and laughed about Nigel’s dramatic flair with his friends. But now? Now that Nigel’s focus was on him in a way it never had been before, Adam felt a heat grow in his stomach.

He reached over and picked up the glass to take a sip. Nigel’s hand followed the glass, his index finger resting on the bottom to tip it up, encouraging Adam to drink it all at once. With his options being to swallow or to choke, Adam swallowed.

“Very good. I’m impressed,” Nigel said. His lips brushed against Adam’s ear. From this distance he could smell Adam’s shampoo, probably labelled something like Fresh Rain, and Adam could smell the concentrated haze of cigarette smoke that seemed permanently attached to Nigel.

“Now, why don’t we have a seat and enjoy the evening, hm?” Nigel’s fingers curled tightly into Adam’s side, gripping his suit jacket as he turned him away from the bar. “You always perform and then rush home, but I think you’ll enjoy seeing the club after hours.”  
  
Adam sat heavily on a couch with high walls, and watched as Nigel took an entire bottle of scotch from a passing server. Her uniform was only a bra and a skirt, Adam noted. How was he only noticing for the first time? Or, was Nigel serious about the club being different after he left?

“See something you like, my boy?” Nigel sat beside him and crossed one leg over the other, lighting himself a cigarette.

“Just her outfit,” Adam said as he watched her go with a smirk.

“I’m certain that we can find one in your size.”

Nigel winked. Adam laughed, but his cheeks felt hot.

“I don’t think I’d fill it out.”

“Ah, but how do you know without trying?” Nigel leaned in, his arm around Adam again. He held his cigarette to Adam’s lips and Adam took a drag, grateful for the light hum of scotch and nicotine to ease his racing thoughts. When Nigel offered him the bottle, he drank from it without a moment’s pause. He usually ate dinner after performing, not before, and he could feel the warmth of the scotch in his bones already.

“The music is different,” Adam noted after a while. He’d been watching people pass by the booth, arms around each other and in various stages of undress, when the thought occurred to him. This time when Nigel offered the bottle he refused. “You don’t have to get me drunk to keep me here.”

“I’m doing no such thing. I am getting you drunk _and_ keeping you here,” Nigel explained. His tone was still light, playful, and Adam allowed himself to be disarmed by it.

“Keeping me here to see what? Are strippers going to come out and make sure everybody has a good time?”

“No,” Nigel laughed. “Nothing so gaudy. We use music and alcohol for that, as well as foster an open environment. We encourage our patrons to feel free to explore their own, and each other’s, bodies without judgement.”

Adam’s astonished grin seemed to take up his whole face, and the whiteness of his teeth captivated Nigel. “A sex club. After the regular performer leaves, your lounge turns into a sex club.”

“Yes indeed.”

“…I’ll need more scotch to be able to process this.”

“Yes indeed.”

Nigel held the bottle to Adam’s lips and watched his throat as he gulped down the alcohol. When he lowered the bottle, Adam surprised him by leaning in to kiss him. The kiss was every bit as bold as he’d expected it should be, and he returned it happily.

“We should go to your office.”

“You continue to impress me. However, I must insist that any illicit activity take place within the lounge itself.”

Adam laughed, and spoke slowly as if he were tasting each word before speaking it. “You want to fuck me here, in the middle of everything?”

Nigel leaned in to kiss just beneath his ear. “I have wanted to fuck you since the first time I laid eyes on you. Fucking you here would only be sweeter.”

Adam allowed himself to be pulled into Nigel’s lap. With the man’s hands still on his lapels, Adam cradled his jaw in his hands and kissed him again. Nigel tasted like cigarettes, but as opposed to the scent of stale smoke he tasted like sweet, expensive tobacco. Nigel’s hands moved down to push the suit jacket down Adam’s arms, and Adam shrugged it off. It fell to the floor and Nigel’s fingers were already loosening Adam’s tie and unbuttoning his shirt, kissing and biting at the newly bared skin.

Adam slid the fingers of one hand into Nigel’s hair, the other hand resting on his shoulder as he tilted his head back. He rolled his hips in Nigel’s lap as he shrugged his shirt off- or tried to. When he got it down to his forearms, Nigel stopped him and twisted the shirt around itself, to keep his arms behind his back. He gripped Adam’s tie next, wrapping it around his hand and pulling him in so he could kiss his throat. He bit down, and when Adam gasped he slid his free hand up his thigh to grip him through his slacks.

“You have entirely too many clothes on, Mr. Towers. What’s to be done about that?”

“Hmm?” Adam could barely think straight, and let himself be turned over and placed chest-down on the table without a fuss. He watched a couple walk past, then looked over his shoulder to watch as Nigel undid his pants and tugged them, along with his underwear, to his knees. Adam had done quite a few kinky things in his time, but being bent naked over a table in a public club was new to him.

“Nigel, it’s hardly fair that you’re still fully dressed, and I’m—” Nigel’s fingers wrapped around Adam’s cock and he bucked into it with a warm sound.

“There’s a good boy,” Nigel cooed as he stroked Adam slowly, and pressed a finger into him. He was gentle now, so he didn’t have to be later. Adam hadn’t even seen him take the bottle of lubricant from a small drawer within the table, although he was grateful when he felt a second finger pressing in.

“Nigel,” he gasped.

“My, you’re more eager than I expected. You must make quite a good cocksucker as well, hm?”

Adam moaned an affirmation into the table.

Nigel withdrew only for a moment, to undo his own pants. He stroked himself a few times, then gripped Adam’s hips and pressed his cock into him with a pleasant sigh. He bucked into him slowly at first, then thrust harder as he reached up and twisted his fingers into Adam’s dark curls.

“Be loud for daddy.” Nigel pulled his head back as he fucked him.

Adam’s gasps and moans travelled easily out of the booth, only just audible over the music. He admired the tightness in Adam’s shoulders and the straining muscles in his arms as they remained trapped behind him. “You’re quite the attention seeker, aren’t you? I believe those are some of your regulars.”

Adam wasn’t sure when his eyes closed, but they fluttered open to see an older couple watching; he recognized them from his last two performances. The thought of them remembering this moment next Friday was enough to make him cry out as he came.

Nigel let go of his hair to grip his shoulder, pulling him back into him roughly. He fucked into him for a few moments longer, then held him back against him as he came. They settled there together to catch their breath.

When Nigel pulled out, he cleaned himself up and carefully fixed his own clothing first. Then he cleaned Adam up, and finally freed his arms from his shirt. He settled back into his seat to take another swig of scotch, eyes on the singer as he fumbled about for his pants. Watching him struggle back into his clothes was almost as satisfying as actually fucking him.

“…Permission to go home now?” Adam asked.

“Granted. Although, I wouldn’t mind if you stayed.”

Adam finished buttoning up his shirt, and looked around the club. Then, slowly, he sank back onto the couch beside Nigel again, and reached out for the scotch.

“I can stay a little longer.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any glaring errors, but I got tired of re-reading it over and over.
> 
> This is for @chesapeakshippr and @deeker on Twitter based on a Ko-fi donation!


End file.
